Johnny brushed glowing embers from his jacket, stood, and started back toward the mountainside and his comrades.
The fin appeared almost directly in front of him, allowing no time to dodge or even think about dodging. The Bore-Shark jumped. It seemed to hover over Reverend Johnny’s head as if time paused so the beast could relish its victory.
Then its side exploded. Steaming acid splattered inches from Johnny’s feet and the ugly beast with the big round maw flopped to the tundra like a fish out of water.
A split second later, Johnny heard the clap of the sniper rifle shot that saved his life.
Up ahead on the hillside, Casey Fink wiped his brow.
“Much obliged, Mr. Fink!” Reverend Johnny yelled.
Fink stood from his prone sniper position and both he and Jon Brewer descended the slope where they met with the Reverend.
“You just blew up a third of our fuel,” Brewer said, eyeing the dying flames from one barrel of gas.
“My apologies, General, but it was the only plan I could muster on such short notice.”
Fink said, “Unless anyone sees a tail fin swimming around here, I think we got every last one of the things.”
“Good,” Brewer said and pulled his radio from his belt. “I’m going to call everyone in. I want my ride put together and then I want to get on our way.”
Minutes later, the expeditionary force gathered around City Hall. While the technicians finished assembling and fueling the command vehicle, others collected body parts of their fallen comrades and managed to dig shallow graves in the hard ground.
None of them noticed the storm in the distance moving across the horizon: a gray whirlwind spinning to the north.
The competition had arrived.
17. Potential
Nina Forest arrived at Wrightsville Beach just in time for the hard work.
More specifically, the ‘guard’ at the bridge directed her to a small, one-story building a few blocks from the beachfront. There she found Jim Brock, his ‘orphans,’ and a small crew of adults working on a community project.
Nina spied two large piles of timber as well as buckets and boxes of tools outside of the “Wrightsville Beach Physicians Association,” a single-story building that happened to be missing most of one wall.
Jim greeted her as she parked at the curb. Denise Cannon stood in the distance with a group of bored- looking kids ranging in age from under eight to over twelve.
“Hello, Captain,” Brock offered as Nina exited the topless Humvee. “Did you bring a hammer?”
She looked at the hole in the wall then to him.
“Actually, I brought an appetite. An appetite for seafood.”
Brock tried hard but he could not contain his smile. “Great…that’s great. But-”
“But you’ve got something else going right now,” she stated the obvious.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that this is the only doctor’s office around and some big hairy thing knocked it down the other day. Some of those dogs-I mean, K9s-of yours chased it away but not before…before this…” he waved at the damage.
“Damn. Well, I guess we better start working if we’re going to make that dinner before it gets too dark.”
“Hey, uh, Captain-I mean Ms. Forest-uh, no, I mean Cap-”
“Nina.”
“Oh. Right. Um, Nina, you don’t need to do this. It’s going to take us forever. Besides, you’ve done more than-”
“Forever? Listen, Jim, we just have to put some elbow grease into this.” She walked toward the building with Brock in tow.
“Well there’s only four of us, I mean, I guess, five of us now, so it’s going to take a long, long time.”
“What about them?” Nina nodded at the kids standing around.
“Oh, yeah, them. It’s just me watching them now and I couldn’t leave them by themselves.”
Nina yelled, “Hey, ‘D’!”
Denise Cannon stood straight and cocked her head in such a smug manner that she might as well have told her friends, Yeah, that’s right, I’m tight with the coolest soldier around. Worship me.
Nina approached Denise and her circle of admirers.
“Hey, um, hey,” Denise said but kept a ‘cool’ posture.
“How you doing, girl?”
Jim Brock’s mouth nearly unhinged in fascination as he watched the exchange.
“Everything’s, like, cool. You know?” Denise answered.
“Hey, Denise, I need you to take care of something.”
“Yeah? Whatchya need?”
“We got to get this wall patched up real quick like, so I need you to take charge,” the Captain said.
“M-me? I mean, take charge of what?”
“Your gang over there,” Nina answered. “I know most of them are just kids, but I figured you could maybe get them to help do this.”
Jim Brock tried to say, “Oh, the kids don’t need to-”
“Yeah, you bet,” Denise answered.
“Tell me what you think,” Nina asked of Denise. “But I was thinking maybe me, Jim, and the other people here would start putting up the boards and nailing them on; do the dry wall and stuff. You could take your team and start hauling over those supplies. Just keep the real little kids away from the sharp stuff.”
“Nina, you don’t need to help with this,” Jim said but he was not really a part of the conversation.
Denise suggested, “Maybe we should pile the stuff up to the side there and then run for nails and stuff when you need it.”
“Damn good idea,” Nina nodded. “Why don’t you get them organized while I straighten things up over here.”
“Yeah, sure. I mean, roger that and all, right?”
“Right.”
Denise used all her strength to suppress a grin as she turned to the group of kids. “Hey, listen up! Billy, Joey, and Kate you guys come over here and start throwin’ all the nails in these buckets.”
One of the older boys-maybe fifteen-asked the obvious question, “Who put you in charge?”
“Don’t waste my time with stupid questions. Just do it.”
Billy did not ask any more stupid questions.
Nina and Jim walked to the clinic wall. He stared at her the entire way over.
“What?”
“I just…just-wow.”
The two met up with the other adults and quickly put things into good working order. They rebuilt the wall in less than two hours. While not a perfect match, Nina felt it filled the hole nicely, at least for the time being.
Nina watched a group of children run from the ocean’s edge carrying buckets of seaweed. The kids worked their way through the tangled mess of brush that had once been a meticulously kempt garden. Eventually, they rejoined the gathering on the patio deck.
“Seaweed?” Nina turned to Jim Brock and accepted a glass of water he offered.
“What? You’ve never been to a clam bake before?”
The kids ran to the trio of chefs overseeing a big barbecue pit where a layer of round stones smoldered.
